Muggy

I would like to state, for the record, that when a person (read: your fearless heroine) is attempting to reach an outlet behind a HUMONGOUS dresser–an outlet where you cannot even see the damned holes–it is PERFECTLY REASONABLE, RATIONAL, AND NOT AT ALL INSANE to scream bloody murder when someone offers to assist you in finding the outlet. And it is *not* something that can be blamed on Hormones of the Female Type. Nor should you be surprised if I decide to *accidentally* fling a mug out of sheer frustration.

Look. It was bloody hot out. And it was muggy. Really. Doesn’t EVERYONE do this?? We have dealt with this all before, people. I do not get bitchy AT all. You all seem to get this notion and I’ve NO idea where it comes from.

Tsk.

Anyway. I’ve been busy, busy, busy again these past few days. Although not the clinically insane busy whereupon I had no puter and no way to foist my insanity upon the net in that netherworld known as Down South, thank goodness. I was working for Birdie who had been lamenting the state of her kitchen floor ever since I’d left and booked me straightaway once I’d gotten home. Plus, I’ve been helping out Annie again with the cleaning out of her Parental Unit’s Place (a bigger job than we’d anticipated which was also sidelined by other things, so by the time I got back I was still able to help her).

{Which means this will be fairly short and sweet because I’m bloody knackered}

Now Annie and Trash are always busting each others chops and have done so since they’ve met (well, once he was old enough to bust chops properly).

Tonight Annie and I were at the local pizza joint and I rang home, as I needed to find out TWOL’s phone number, because I’m absolute crap remembering numbers. And Annie chimed in when she heard I was talking to Trash.

Babs: Hey Dumbass, is Ma there??

Annie: Hey loser!!

Trash: *tells me to say something to Annie what I can’t remember now but was rather lame*

Annie: Oh, nice comeback, genius.

Babs: Do you know TWOL’s phone number?? Well look in Ma’s phone book then, moron.

Annie: *says something else smartassy that I also can’t remember but doesn’t matter as this is not crux of funny convo so ignore it*

Babs: He says fuck off.

Annie: Tell him he can kiss my ass.

Babs (to Trash): She says kiss her ass.

Annie: What’d he say??

Babs: He’s humming.

Annie: *suddenly has look of revulsion on her face*

Babs (to Annie): What??

Annie: What did you say??

Babs (v. confused now): Huh?? He’s humming.

Annie: Oh my god!! That’s fucking gross!!

Babs: Er. Um. What??

Annie: Wait. WHAT did you say??

Babs: I said he’s humming. Don’t know what song, though. I think he’s still looking for Ma’s phone book. What the hell did you think I said?!

Annie: I thought you said….oh my god I can’t believe I misheard that.

Babs (suddenly realizing what Annie thought she said and the thinking behind it): Oh ew ew ew!! WHY would you think that?!?! Oh my GOD!! That’s SICK!!

Annie: First I thought he meant he was going to come here to the restaurant. And then I thought??

{And, mind you, we are now pissing ourselves laughing by this point, so everyone in the place is looking at us like we are mental cases. Which, ok, is probably a very fair assessment}

Babs: You’re twisted!! I said humming you nit!! Why the HELL would my brother do something like that while I was on the phone?? Or um, EVER?!?! Sheesh, think woman!!

Annie: I need to get more sleep, I think.

Babs: Yes. Definitely.